A LITERARY JOURNAL PUBLISHING STANDOUT TEEN WRITERS AGES 13-19
Global Citizenship
by SHAYNA LENG (Singapore)
November 2021
Their shells pricked my fingers, the spikes digging tauntingly into my skin.
by MAISHA EUZEBE (Dominica)
April 2021
My best friend and I always talk about how we're going to change the world.
by TULA SINGER (Cuba)
April 2021
The embassy called and approved our request to leave the country. So we packed our clothes and a couple of other essentials, leaving the rest behind.
by KOBY CHEN (Canada)
April 2021
When my mother and father had left for the west, they brought few things with them.
by ARI (United States)
April 2021
In the jungles of Aklan stands a statue of a man I've never met.
Stands a monument to a face I've never seen.
by VIVIAN ZHI (Canada)
December 2020
My words can be a sense of comfort, a feeling of being understood, a thought, an awakening.
by ELOISE DAVIS (United Kingdom)
December 2020
Throughout my many travels, to all sorts of exotic lands, never before have I seen a diet so extraordinary as that of the snamuh.
by LIORA SCOP (South Africa)
August 2020
They say 7 billion people stayed home today
2.2 billion children stayed out of school
by TULA SINGER (Cuba)
August 2020
My mother came into the kitchen with a blank face. "We're leaving," she said. "We're going to move in with Ahmad in New York."
by ENLING LIAO (Australia)
April 2019
Thirty-two nights without seeing a start
Bright, shining, good luck, good luck for me.
by ASHTON PERFECTO (United States)
April 2020
I am an American boy
with a Mexican twin.
by SIRIN JITKLONGSUB (Thailand)
December 2019
These are the scents I will take with me when I leave this house.
by JONATHAN HUANG (Taiwan)
December 2019
My teacher, Ms. Waterson, wore glasses, and I kept an earnest gaze on them as I spoke . . .
by MERIT ONYEKWERE (United States)
December 2019
When Uchechi’s voice crackles with laughter and her almond brown eyes crease . . .
by ROSALEEN SWEITI (United States)
September 2019
There's a sort of spell that falls over the dinner table as we wait for the athan to sound.
by AKILAH NORTHERN (United States)
September 2019
“Black people don’t eat sushi.” He said it while I was in the middle of filling a bowl with grits . .
by MELISSA XU (United States)
September 2019
I grew up eating an excessive amount of eggs. Actually, that’s a little misleading.
by ENOK CHOE (United States)
September 2019
In November 2018, the horrific picture of a migrant mother and her daughters fleeing . . .
by JUNFANG ZHANG (Singapore)
September 2019
Perpetually sitting in a corner of my room is a large carrier bag filled with cast-off clothes.
by DANIEL SHARPE (Northern Ireland)
September 2019
Sweet Erin you lay far from me,
In soils toiled by blight and blood.
by SAMANTHA WAGNER (United States)
April 2019
I believe in
People Places,
A Place for every Person to
by MAYA LINSLEY (Canada)
April 2019
I found love in the plastic heart of a run-down souvenir shop. Sweat had dried in a sticky landscape across my back, and I was out of breath from the sheer force of the midday sun, and I was standing in between . . .